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"Oh, did you hear? Filch was losing his absolute mind on the third floor!"
"Hahaha, apparently someone literally dropped a load right in the middle of the corridor."
"Oh, by Merlin's lace underwear, we're literally eating breakfast. Do you mind?"
At the Gryffindor table, Ron aggressively winked at Harry.
"Harry, did you hear that? That's definitely Fred and George's Dungbombs doing work."
"They gave me three of them yesterday. I definitely have to find an excuse to test one out!"
"You want to come with?"
Harry didn't answer. He was mechanically chewing his sandwich, staring blankly ahead.
The first Quidditch match of the school year was this Saturday. Gryffindor was going up against Slytherin. As everyone well knew, Harry was the Gryffindor Seeker, which meant he had to play.
This was going to be Harry's first time stepping onto an actual Quidditch pitch for a real game. He'd been so incredibly stressed out over the past few days that he was practically insomniac. That sheer anxiety was exactly why he currently looked like a walking zombie.
"Oh, come on, Harry. Don't stress out! You're an incredible Seeker!"
"Your dad was a Gryffindor Seeker too, and he won a bunch of awards, right?"
Ron desperately racked his brain, trying to find anything to help his best friend relax. It wasn't really working.
Right then, Hermione bustled over, hugging a massive stack of books, and dropped into the seat next to them.
"Hey, are you guys ready for the Charms practical test today?" Hermione asked, picking up a sandwich. "Professor Flitwick explicitly stated that if we all pass this test, he'll start teaching us the fundamentals of dueling."
Her question successfully derailed Ron and Harry's Quidditch anxiety. The two boys looked at each other, sheer panic suddenly washing over their faces.
They had completely forgotten about the Charms test!
"Oh, crap!" Ron groaned, aggressively rubbing his face. "There are a couple of spells I still can't get right. And, you know... my wand is completely unreliable."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "The test hasn't even started, and you're already making excuses!"
"For your information, Neville spent the entire night practicing his spellwork!"
"Ha!" Ron waved her off dismissively. "Neville is even worse than I am. He can't even cast a basic Levitation Charm! There's absolutely no way he mastered five spells in a single night."
"Want to bet on it?" Hermione challenged instantly. "Let's bet on whether Neville can successfully cast every single spell Professor Flitwick tests us on."
Seeing Ron hesitate, Hermione immediately went for the throat. "What's wrong? Are you scared?"
That line was like stepping on a cat's tail. Ron instantly flared up, glaring at her.
"I'm not scared of anything!" he snapped, jutting his chin out. "If he actually pulls it off, I... I'll do his homework for an entire week!"
"Hey, Ron, chill," Harry muttered, tugging at his friend's sleeve.
Ron acted like he was dying every time he had to do his own homework. If he actually had to do Neville's on top of it, he'd completely lose his mind.
Fortunately, Hermione shut it down.
"Absolutely not. Homework is critical for your academic development. You can't just have someone else do it for you."
"Fine. Then what do you want?" Ron asked, throwing his hands up.
Hermione lifted her chin. "If Neville successfully casts every spell, you have to carry his books for him. For an entire month."
"Ha! Forget a month, I'd do it for the whole term!" Ron sneered, glaring right back at her. "And what happens when he inevitably fails?!"
"Then I'll carry your books for a month!"
"Is that a promise?"
"It's a promise!"
With that, the two of them synchronized a dramatic huff and aggressively turned away from each other.
"Hmph. Just you wait. There is absolutely no way Neville pulls this off," Ron muttered, stabbing his pasta with a fork.
Beside him, however, Hermione was secretly thrilled. She silently applauded herself for executing a flawless master plan.
She already knew exactly what Neville was capable of after last night's study session. In other words, she had rigged the bet from the very beginning! She had set a trap, and Ron had walked right into it!
Hermione shot a covert glance at the two boys next to her.
Honestly, this is for your own good.
Her logic was incredibly straightforward: Ron hated studying. But if he was forced to constantly hang around Neville—who was now highly motivated and studying constantly—Neville's focus would eventually rub off on Ron. And since Harry was practically glued to Ron's hip, if Ron started studying, Harry would naturally follow suit.
Meanwhile, Hermione would personally tutor Neville, ensuring his fundamentals were rock solid and keeping him on track (since Neville had a habit of working incredibly hard in entirely the wrong direction).
It was a perfectly interlocked system. The four of them would create a highly productive, supportive study group.
Everyone would learn, and everyone would improve.
It was absolute perfection!
#### The Charms Practical
This Charms class was a joint session between Ravenclaw and Gryffindor. For the practical test, Professor Flitwick had specifically booked one of the larger classrooms.
After breakfast, Richie and the guys headed over to the designated room.
The layout was unusual. There were no desks. Instead, a long, T-shaped stone platform dominated the center of the room, with the floor completely cleared out around it.
"Oh, man. Looks like we have to stand up there to take the test," Terry said, nervously wringing his hands.
"You'll be fine. We literally ran through all the spells in the common room this morning," Anthony said, patting him on the shoulder.
"True," Terry nodded, relaxing slightly.
Earlier that morning, a few first-year eagles had panicked about the test and asked Richie for some last-minute spellcasting tips. Richie, being Richie, happily obliged. Seeing him giving a masterclass, the rest of the Ravenclaw first-years naturally crowded around to listen in.
Since there were only ten of them, and they had all been consistently studying and practicing anyway, any minor issues they had were immediately diagnosed and fixed by Richie and the group.
Because of that impromptu review session, the Ravenclaws walked into the classroom radiating quiet confidence—a sharp contrast to the Gryffindor lions, who were currently clustered together, frantically trying to cram at the last second.
Of course, the eagles genuinely wanted everyone to pass.
Professor Flitwick's condition for unlocking the dueling curriculum was a 90% pass rate. Out of the forty-one first-year students, that meant they needed thirty-seven to pass.
Dueling had a long, highly respected tradition in the magical world. It was viewed as the ultimate gentleman's sport—a perfect blend of combat skill, athletic sportsmanship, and practical magical application.
While it didn't have the mass-market appeal of Quidditch, very few young wizards would ever pass up the chance to learn how to duel.
Because of that, this test was incredibly high stakes for almost everyone in the room.